


A Study In Cosmetics

by godmolly



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes (BBC Radio), johnlock - Fandom
Genre: AU, Beauty Vlogger AU, Fluff, Gay, M/M, Teenlock, Unilock, Youtuber AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-06
Updated: 2017-05-06
Packaged: 2018-10-28 15:07:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10833759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/godmolly/pseuds/godmolly
Summary: The next to last thing John expects is to develop a crush on the obnoxious beauty vlogger his sister is obsessed with.And maybe the last thing he expected would be to end up by his side.tumblr





	A Study In Cosmetics

Based off of this headcanon (https://grumpy-swoop.tumblr.com/post/157922875751/unilock-prompt?is_related_post=1)

 

“Harry, Clara’s here!” **  
**

“I’ll be down in a bit!”

John exhaled and stepped back from the door. “You should probably just come in, I suppose,” he said in a low voice. “When she says a bit, she really means another half an hour.”

Clara laughed and slipped into the living room, taking a seat on the couch. “It’s fine. I’ve gotten used to it.”

John smiled at his sister’s date. Harry had changed so much since she met Clara– she’d gotten happier. His eyes flicked over the girl’s face before they slid back to the floor.

He’d had little luck finding anyone he really liked yet. Every girl was too boring, too shy, too loud, too clingy. Eventually, he stopped going on blind dates friends set up for him and just stayed home while they went out.

He knew it shouldn’t bother him, but seeing Harry and Clara pulling out of the driveway together on their way to some party made him feel a little lonely.

After a few minutes of casual chatter, John looked up at the ceiling and huffed. “For God’s sake, it’s been long enough. I’ll be right back,” he said, standing up and making his way upstairs.

John rapped on his sister’s closed door. A voice was coming from inside that wasn’t Harry’s. A man?

“Harry, who’ve you got in there?” he said, turning the doorknob and stepping in.

 

His sister was sitting at her desk in front of a mirror, her laptop balanced on her legs. “Shhh! Don’t break my concentration,” she muttered over the video.

“What on earth…” John approached her desk, bending over to look at the computer screen. “Is that a tutorial?”

“Yeah, it’s this guy named Sherlock Holmes. He’s pretty good.” Harry twisted her wrist slightly, her face close to the mirror.  “Done!” she exclaimed, capping her eyeliner and tossing it down with a flourish. “I’ll be back around twelve. Don’t wait up!” She flung an arm around John’s neck and kissed his cheek before grabbing her bag and rushing down the stairs.

“Okay, bye,” John said to an empty room.  He heard the front door slam.

He looked around, hands in his pockets. Alone again.

The bright screen drew him over, and he sat down. The person on the screen — Sherlock Holmes, apparently, what a ridiculous name — looked about his age, but the full face of makeup might have been a little distracting. The screen name said “highfunctioningsociopath.”

He scrolled back to the beginning of the video and rested his chin on his hands.

“Hello. The name’s Sherlock Holmes, and today I have a very important video.  It’s come to my attention that some of you so-called beauty gurus have absolutely no idea what you’re doing. Frankly, it’s embarrassing. So I’ve taken it upon myself to demonstrate the proper way to apply winged liner.”

John snorted. This guy seemed arrogant and unpleasant. John was already a little annoyed, and he was only seven seconds in.

(But being honest, he was kinda cute, so John let the video keep playing.)

“You’re going to want to start with primer, obviously. I’m not going to explain why, because if you’re that incompetent, you should not be wearing makeup at all.”

He went on to delicately apply the eyeliner to his lid with impressively steady hands. Now John understood why he had two million, twenty one thousand subscribers. It was almost relaxing, to watch something being perfectly applied to a pretty face with a soothing voice (albeit snapping insults at the viewers) in the background.

 

John watched in fascination. As the video played on, he discovered himself developing a strange interest in this handsome, obnoxious man. His sharp wit was making John laugh by the time the video ended. He smiled to himself as he scrolled down through the description.

Despite his irritating commentary, people really seemed to love him. There were hundreds of comments praising his technique and skill.

_omg sherlock is a miracle worker– i can finally do the perfect cat eye!!!_

_Don’t cry — craft!_

_he’s so beautiful i can’t_

_love this man so much. my idol <3_ and so on.

The bright red eyeliner pen resting next to the laptop drew John’s eyes. He picked it up and rolled it around in his hand absentmindedly. He had never really messed around with makeup, except for one time in grade school where he had worn blue eyeshadow and pink gloss for a week on a dare. He’d always been a little nervous to try.

But he was home alone.

John pulled out his phone and set it up against the wall so it was facing him. He moved the laptop out of the way and turned on his sister’s desk light before pulling the mirror closer to his face and clearing his throat.

“Um, hello, I’m John Watson. I’ve got no experience whatsoever with makeup, but I just watched Sherlock Holmes’s video on eyeliner, and I thought I’d give it a shot. Wish me luck.”

 

Sherlock’s phone had been buzzing nonstop for an hour, twelve minutes, and forty-three seconds. It was really starting to get annoying. He snatched it up, anxious to learn what the fuss was about.

His Twitter fans were beside themselves with some video a blonde had posted on YouTube. He rolled his eyes and clicked on the link people had been sending him. He had multiple recordings scheduled for today, and he wasn’t eager to get distracted by some ridiculous little home film of a cat on a Roomba.

Four minutes and eleven seconds later, he had completely forgotten his schedule. This John Watson, whoever he was, had captured his attention totally and completely. Sherlock didn’t mind that his eyeliner technique was abominable or that he had no idea how to even hold the applicator. All he cared about was that he had said his name– “Sherlock Holmes’s video”– those words had come out of his mouth. His pretty face had entranced Sherlock within five minutes.

Sherlock’s viewers, the ones who’d been there since the beginning, watching his occasional livestreams and interviews and who’d met him in real life knew that he wasn’t rude or obnoxious.

One comment he’d seen he thought perfectly summed his real self up.

_He’s just a shy lil gay boy who deserves love <3_

Evidently his viewers commented the same things on John’s video, making sure the boy knew what Sherlock was really like. The internet had chosen his soulmate. With a sigh, he logged onto Tumblr.

There was already a ship name. Johnlock, apparently. The fandom really was fast. Whether or not that was a good thing was yet to be determined.

According to the various stalkers online, both he and this John lived in London. Sherlock shook his head, already hearing the countless Tweets he and John would get — _Meet up, meet up, meet up_

And, pressing replay on John’s video, Sherlock couldn’t say he was one hundred percent opposed.

_@highfunctioningsociopath hey buddy you in London?_

_@highfunctioningsociopath i’m sorry they made me_

_@johnwatson you must be new to online culture to be so easily persuaded_

_@highfunctioningsociopath teach me your ways of internetness_

Sherlock sighed. This was only fueling the shippers.

_@highfunctioningsociopath @johnwatson you two should meet up!_

_@johnwatson maybe we will_

_@johnwatson meet me at speedy’s café in half an hour_

_@johnwatson i know you don’t have any plans, so no need to say anything about that_

_@highfunctioningsociopath ok_

_@highfuncioningsociopath @johnwatson i ship it_

 

John stood outside of the café, blinking in the bright sunlight. He checked his watch. 16:07.

Just as he was beginning to wonder, a taxi cab pulled up, and the door swung open, revealing a tall figure in a tall coat.

“Hello,” the person greeted. Once they were closer John could see that it was Sherlock, with impeccable makeup and curls that seemed a little out of control. They suited him even more in person, John saw. (He hadn’t thought that that was possible.)

Sherlock seemed to be studying him as well, but John couldn’t read his eyes.

He held out a hand. “Sherlock Holmes.”

“John Watson,” John replied. A small smirk made its way onto Sherlock’s face at the statement, which, John realized, he already knew from his Twitter handle. “Nice to meet you in person.”

“I’ve asked them to not stalk us,” Sherlock said, looking around.

“Has that ever worked?”

“What do you think, my dear Watson?“ Sherlock’s eyes seemed to glimmer in the sunlight as he pushed the door open forcefully, leading them both into the dimly lit café.

John stepped into the warm restaurant, his eyes squinting to adjust to the dark space. Sherlock moved past him to greet the owner. John was surprised by the friendly intimacy they seemed to share. A twinge of jealousy followed his observation.

“Take a seat — we’ve got many things to discuss,” Sherlock said briskly, sliding into a booth.

“What can I get you and your date, Sherlock?” the owner asked, a wide grin on his face.

“I’m not his date,” John said automatically, brow furrowing. Sherlock said nothing, only looked at John expectantly.

“Of course, my mistake,” the man said, winking conspiratorially with John.

“I’ll have some crisps, I guess,” John replied.

“And water for me,” Sherlock added.

“I’ll be right back,” the man said, turning and bouncing back to the kitchen.

“Wait,” John paused, looking at Sherlock. “What do we have to discuss? I thought we were just meeting to … meet.”

Sherlock steepled his fingers under his chin. “We should collaborate on something. It’s what the people want.”

“Uh… all right?” John said slowly, a little overwhelmed. “Right now?”

“Well, of course. I live next door. We’ll grab a bite and start filming.”

“But you just … arrived in a taxi. Were you coming from something?”

Sherlock blinked and shook his head. “Unimportant. So, since your video showed just how much of a buffoon you are with makeup, the topic of this one will be eyeliner techniques for amateurs. Clearly it will be an invaluable resource for people like you.”

John burst out laughing.

Sherlock raised one eyebrow, thoroughly confused. “Excuse me?”

“My God, you’re a real tit, aren’t you?” John managed to get out once he had calmed down a little. “Sherlock, it’s intimidating on camera, but in real life you just look silly!”

Sherlock tilted his head, staring at John. “…Sorry?”

“Oh, you really don’t know how ridiculous you sound right now?” John gasped, eyes wide with amusement.

“No … I usually get a very different reaction when I use my on-screen personality,” Sherlock admitted, fiddling with a paper napkin.

“People actually believe you’re this much of a prick?” John said, smiling.

Sherlock was struck by how enchanted he was with this man when he smiled. His face lit up, and the only word his brilliant mind could think of was _sunshine_.

“Hello? Earth to Sherlock?” John said, waving his hand in front of his face.

“Um, yes, they do,” Sherlock said, shaking his head quickly.

“Here you go,” the server trilled, setting down a dish and two glasses onto the table before spinning away to take someone else’s order.

“So … what will this collaboration be?”

“I thought it was obvious.” Sherlock rolled his pretty eyes. “I’ll do your makeup. You’ve seen the Tweets, correct?”

John shook his head, and Sherlock pulled out his phone and handed it to him. John scrolled through the notifications, noting that ninety eight percent of them were _do John’s makeup!!!_ and similar variations.

Sherlock cleared his throat. “Well, now that we’ve sorted that out.” He never finished the sentence, just leapt up and shrugged on his coat. John looked up.

“You’ve not eaten anything!”

“Not hungry.” And that was that, apparently. John got up from the bench after him, then followed him to his apartment.

Sherlock flung open the door and made his way up the stairs, yelling, “Come on, we’re wasting daylight!”

John ran up the stairs and stepped into Sherlock’s flat, looking around. Every available surface was covered with books, recording equipment, and makeup. A single table was clear, illuminated by a bright white light. Two cameras sat in front of it.

Sherlock was pulling things out of drawers and bags, placing them on the table. He set a couple of new packages on the table and crossed the room to grab John’s hand and pull him over to the chairs.

He took John’s chin with his fingers and got extremely close, close enough for John to be able to pick apart the individual specks of color in his eyes. “Hmm,” he hummed. “I have … yes! I have the perfect shade for you!” He climbed triumphantly right over the coffee table and into another room, before energetically walking back with a small bottle clutched in his fist.

“Take a seat while I set up the camera,” he instructed, already striding over to the delicate instruments. He began to click buttons and shift angles while John sat down, staring at the complex arrangement of products in front of him.

“Wow. This is a lot of makeup.”

“The game is afoot, Watson. You’ll have to keep up.” And with that, Sherlock winked ( _winked_ ) and pressed _Record_.

 

John allowed himself to be swept up in the banter, poking, and constant lack of space between himself and Sherlock. (It may have been a bit awkward for him at first, but it grew into more and more of a comfortable proximity as time wore on.)

And John had to admit: Sherlock was incredible at makeup. He had a dainty touch and knew exactly what to do. His skilled hands moved steadily over John’s face, holding brushes and blenders and some weird clamp thing John had never seen before. If it hadn’t been Sherlock wielding all these strange new objects very close to his eyes, it might have been incredibly unsettling.

“All right, you’re all done,” Sherlock announced, pulling away from John’s face. He picked up a mirror and held it up to John.

It was safe to say that John was speechless. He had never seen nor imagined himself with actually well-done makeup before. And he had to admit: he looked amazing. His eyes were both darkened and brightened by the eyeshadow paired with the jet-black liner, and his cheeks looked soft but sharp at the same time.

“How — how did you do that?”

“Just a couple high-functioning sociopath trade secrets, John.”

“You’re brilliant.”

If the decision was purely up to John, the blush that seemed to spread across the other boy’s cheeks would have been left to a trick of the light. After all, it was hot and bright in the room.

“You really think so?”

“Of course.”

“That’s not what people normally say.”

“What do they normally say?”

“‘Boys shouldn’t wear makeup.’” Sherlock offered a smile out of the corner of his mouth, then seemed to remember the camera.

John smiled and laughed at the appropriate moments as Sherlock closed the video, then sat staring at himself as the makeup artist took down the equipment and put his tools away. He looked up to see Sherlock fumbling with some boxes and stood up quickly. He crossed the room to help him place the packages back where they belonged.

“Thanks,” Sherlock mumbled when they were done.

“No problem,” John said, staring up at the taller man (who seemed at a loss for words). They both paused and just looked at each other for a second.

“Well, Harry’s going to freak out,” John said, remembering how much his sister loved his channel.

Sherlock’s eyes darted away from John’s face, and he stepped away quickly, putting an amount of distance that seemed much too far after the entire video.

He offered John a cup of tea shyly, all amiability between them lost. John wondered what he’d done wrong, to make Sherlock suddenly so closed off.

They suffered through the uncomfortably stiff conversation that followed until John said quietly, “Well, I’d better be off. I’ve got classes tomorrow.”

“Yes, obviously. Good luck on your exam.”

John stopped at the door and turned around. “How’d you know I’ve got an exam tomorrow?”

“Um…” Sherlock looked around, searching for an easy answer that wouldn’t raise any questions, “… lucky guess?”

“Huh. Okay. See y’round,” John called, trotting down the stairs.

As soon as Sherlock heard the door slam, he slumped down in his chair and covered his eyes with his hands.

_Who was Harry?_

 

_@johnwatson you know what time it is, john._

_@highfunctioningsociopath time to give the people what they want_

_@johnwatson precisely. I do hope your skills have improved_

_@highfunctioningsociopath i’ve been learning from the best_

_@johnwatson speedys. 15_

_@highfunctioningsociopath @johnwatson have you two started thinking of baby names yet?_

 

Even though John was still awfully confused as to why Sherlock’s mood changed so abruptly the last time they had met, he was thrilled that they were meeting again. The video Sherlock had posted had become wildly popular within the hour; his channel had exploded with the demand for a second one, which led to Sherlock’s summoning five minutes ago.

“Hey, Harry, could you give me a ride on your way to the store?” John called, shrugging on his jacket.

“Sure, give me a second,” she responded from the kitchen.

As they climbed into the car, John checked his phone: four minutes until he needed to arrive. He stared out the window, his stomach flipping for reasons he couldn’t explain.

They pulled up to the cafe, and John climbed out of the car to see Sherlock striding out of the door the exact moment John himself exited the car. He smiled and waved before yelling over his shoulder, “Thanks, Harry!” as she drove away.

“Man, she’s my sister and all, but between classes and her girlfriend, I barely see her any more,” John remarked offhandedly.

Sherlock stopped and blinked. “Harry … is your sister?”

John looked up at him. “Yeah — she’s actually the reason I found your video. Huge fan.”

The taller boy looked at the ground, blinking quickly. “Oh. That makes sense, I suppose,” he said under his breath.

“What?”

“Come on, we’ve got to get started.” Sherlock swiveled and started striding towards his flat. “I promised the stream would start in seven minutes.”

“The- the what?” John stammered, following him like a puppy.

“The livestream, John! You’ll be doing my makeup. God forbid we start late; the internet would have a conniption.”

They stomped up the stairs, where the same table from a week ago sat, the camera already set up and ready to go. John slid into his seat and watched Sherlock bend over the machinery, clicking a couple buttons before jumping into his chair.

“And we’re live.”

John automatically put on a winning smile. He was so happy just to be next to Sherlock, he could have shot through the ceiling with excitement.

“Hello. The name’s Sherlock Holmes, and this is my,” Sherlock paused momentarily, a flash of uncertainty in his eyes, “… friend, John Watson.” He glanced at John nervously, as if unsure the label fit.

“And today I’m going to be doing Sherlock’s makeup,” John blurted, giving Sherlock a reassuring smile that he hoped said _Of course you’re my friend_ and a chance to collect himself. “I’ll be using the battle tactics he taught me.”

“God help me,” Sherlock added.

“Okay, let’s just … start then,” John said slowly, staring down at the mess of products before him.

Sherlock rolled his eyes and pointed at a bottle.

“Oh, right … foundation?”

 

John fumbled his way through most of the process, both of them laughing so hard their sides hurt. As the look began to come together, Sherlock’s face was reminiscent of the drawings Harry did in kindergarten that John’s mum would pin to the fridge.

“No looking!” John yelled, smacking Sherlock’s hand when he tried to reach for the mirror. “I’m not done yet!”

“Oh, really? What’s left to do?”

“Lipstick,” John crowed, plucking a bright red tube from off the table.

Sherlock groaned, shaking his head. “Make it quick, my dear Watson,” he warned playfully.

“Okay, pucker up.”

John unscrewed the tube, pulling out the lipstick wand and leaning closer to Sherlock. “Ah, you’re too tall. Tilt your face down.”

He obliged, closing his eyes and letting John clumsily coat his lips with the obscenely bright color as best he could.

“Perfect,” John declared, pulling back. Though the makeup job was far from it, the adjective still applied. “You’re done!”

As happy as he was that Amateur Hour was over, Sherlock felt a twinge of remorse when John moved away.

“All right, let’s see.” Sherlock grabbed the mirror and brought it to his face, eyes widening.

His eyeliner was bright blue, and the rouge on his cheeks was shockingly pink. His eyeliner was a wobbly, thin line going from the middle of his eyelid to his hairline. The lipstick had gone five different ways when John applied it (probably due to the fact that Sherlock had been shivering a little at the closeness of their faces).

His face split into a huge smile as he turned to his friend. “John, it’s beautiful.”

A silly idea sparked in John’s mind. “Wait, there’s something wrong.”

“What?” Sherlock said, looking back at the mirror. “I don’t see anything.”

“Here, look at me,” John instructed, leaning in again.

“Wh — ”

Sherlock nearly died when John’s lips pressed against his.

Despite only knowing him for a couple of days, something just clicked in Sherlock’s mind.

_Good_. This was good. He liked the way John’s hands pulled at the sleeves of Sherlock’s sweater, which seemed all of a sudden a bit too warm for the heat in the room.  

He felt John’s hands move to his hair, where they knotted themselves into his locks. He felt a flush paint itself from his ears to the tip of his nose, but didn’t want to pull away. Ever.

 

When the smaller boy finally untangled his hands from Sherlock’s curls and sat back with a smug look on his face, the bright red was smeared all over his mouth.

Both of their phones began vibrating nonstop as John grinned at the camera and Sherlock sat speechless.

Because that had just happened _on_ _camera_.

There was no editing that out, or even saying it wasn’t real.

The audience had seen the entire thing, seen how genuine his reaction had been.

 

John Watson had kissed Sherlock Holmes.

 

“Uh,” Sherlock finally mumbled, breaking the silence that had settled over the room. They finally made eye contact, and both smiled.

That had just happened, and no matter whether or not it was on camera, it was wonderful.

John started laughing, harder than he had in a while. This seemed crazy, when he stepped back and thought about it.

But it still felt right, and the way Sherlock shyly giggled next to him confirmed he felt the exact same way.

“Well, that was … John Watson’s makeup tutorial. Very … very good. Ten out of ten. Even if he can’t get a lipstick to stick for his life.”

John snickered. “Like you helped at all.”

“I’ll … see you all next week, then,” Sherlock said abruptly, reaching for the camera and ending the stream with the click of a button.

“Well,” John said, standing up. He could feel his phone vibrating a mile a minute. “That was fun. Now, I’m going to call my sister and explain to her what just happened before she sends the police.”

Sherlock laughed, hopping out of his seat, and John realized he thought it was a joke. “Well, I hope to see you around, John Watson. Actually, I’d hope to see you at Blacklock at seven o’clock on Friday.”

“Is this your way of asking me on a date, Sherlock Holmes?”

“Why yes, I suppose it is.” He winked.

 

And with that, John excused himself from the flat, and stepped right into Harry’s waiting car.

He had a lot of explaining to do.

 

-felix <3

 


End file.
